


run away with me anytime

by astrolesbian



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Edling Week 2018, M/M, Modern AU, Slice of Life, just a bit tho, mostly lighthearted but some angst, sort of like ed coming to the realization that he and ling are good for each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 20:26:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14961600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrolesbian/pseuds/astrolesbian
Summary: four moments in four seasons, in a year of ed and ling's life.-ed’s on his way back from his second-to-last final when he gets hit in the back with a snowball.ling’s laughing face emerges from behind the building. he’s pumping his fist in the air, victorious, and then he starts running in the opposite direction.“i’m gonna kill you,” ed yells, and runs after him.





	run away with me anytime

 

> i. fall

“I wanna go somewhere,” Ling says. He’s hanging upside-down off the couch in their dorm, hair brushing the floor. Ed puts his pen down and looks at him. His face is slowly turning red as all the blood rushes to it, and he looks ridiculous and endearing in his yellow sweater. 

“Then go,” Ed says, and attempts to go back to his homework. It’s a losing battle, because Ling just sits up, shakes his head until the blood in his face goes back to where it’s supposed to be, and then sits in the chair next to Ed’s, draping an arm over his shoulders. Ed fights back a blush at his sudden proximity, because having a dumb crush on Ling is stupid and cliche and he’s attempting to refuse to do it. 

“Come  _ on, _ ” Ling whines, “you’ve been working on that for  _ hours. _ It’s fall and it’s so  _ nice  _ out, I wanna go pick apples.”

“You want to do  _ what now? _ ”

Ling jumps off the chair and kneels dramatically on the floor, extending his arms wide. “Do something dumb and fall-themed with me, Ed! We’re only nineteen and stupid once!”

Ed can think of many excuses to not do this dumb and fall-themed thing with him, some valid, some not. _I have homework to finish_ might work for other people but not for Ed, because Ling knows he can bang out any and all homework in a few hours and on zero sleep if he really tries. _I don’t want to_ could work, but it would hurt Ling’s feelings. _That doesn’t sound fun_ is objectively true and would work if it was anyone else trying to propose the idea, but it’s Ling, and everything Ling does usually ends up fun some way or another.

“Yeah, okay,” he says finally, and gets flustered all over again with the way Ling’s eyes light up. “Let’s go.”

 

“Ooh,” Ling says, when they see the  _ Apple-Picking This Way! _ sign. “Hang on, take a picture of me, I want to put it on Instagram.”

“You’re stupid,” Ed says, “I thought we were here to pick apples,” but he takes Ling’s phone from his outstretched hand, and snickers as he takes a picture of Ling posing next to the sign, grinning wide and offering two thumbs up. 

He’s about to hand the phone back when Ling chirps “Okay, now one of us together!” and grabs him around the waist, holding the phone up and leaning down so his face and Ed’s are right next to each other.

“Hey!” Ed protests, but Ling has already taken the picture, cackling as he lets Ed go and dashes off towards the apple trees. “Hey, delete that!”

“Never!” Ling calls back, “I’m keeping it forever and I’m  _ definitely _ telling Al next time he complains that you never take pictures with him—”

“You  _ suck, _ ” Ed complains, and the sun is warm on his shoulders, and he can still feel Ling’s arm around his waist. He’s fighting a huge, stupid grin, and the way Ling winks back at him suggests he knows what Ed’s pulse is doing. It’s surprisingly all right that he knows, surprisingly un-embarrassing, but Ed doesn’t really want to confront why that might be. Instead, he shoves his hands in the pocket of his hoodie and follows Ling up the hill, where the smell of apples is in the air and Ling is winding his ponytail into a bun to keep it out of the way. 

“Where are we even going to put all these apples?” Ed asks, just to be a dick about it, but Ling shrugs breezily as if the idea hadn’t even crossed his mind. 

“I don’t know. I guess we could share them with the rest of the people in our floor,” he says. “Or you could give them to Winry and she could make pie.”

The amount of casualness in his voice when he says this makes Ed stop dead in his tracks, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. 

“So  _ that’s _ what this is all about.”

“She makes good pie!” Ling protests. “She said if I got some apples she’d make some.”

Ed considers that, and drops the suspicious expression and continuing to walk. “You got me there,” he admits. “You two better share with me.”

“Duh,” Ling says. 

“So why all this apple-picking stuff then?” Ed asks, waving his hands around for a second, and picking up a basket from the stand that the farm has set up. “Why not just, like, go to the store?”

“Well,” Ling says, grabbing a basket as well, and walking backwards so he can smile at Ed, gentle and somehow private, even though they’ve got other people around them, milling about and picking apples. “I wanted to do something fun with you.”

And there goes Ed’s heartbeat again, thudding like crazy against his ribs. 

“Stupid,” he says, ducking his head. “You could have just asked.”

Ling grins again in that gentle way. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Then he bumps his shoulder into Ed’s, nodding towards the expanse of trees in front of them. “Race you.”

He takes off running before Ed can even think to do anything else, laughing as he does.

“You  _ bastard, _ ” Ed yells, and follows him, biting the inside of his cheek to try to calm the force of his smile.

 

> ii. winter

Ed’s on his way back from his second-to-last final when he gets hit in the back with a snowball.

He whirls around on the sidewalk, slipping a little but managing to keep himself upright in the slush. “Who the f—”

Another one lands, hitting him square on the shoulder, and Ling’s laughing face emerges from behind the building. He’s pumping his fist in the air, victorious, and then he starts running in the opposite direction.

“I’m gonna  _ kill you, _ ” Ed yells, and runs after him. Ling is cackling, his voice carrying through the courtyard, his laughter hitching and breathless. He’s wearing a black beanie over his hair, and a puffy coat that swallows him, making him look like a marshmallow. He’s as fast as ever, though, darting between buildings and jumping over benches as Ed chases him, gathering snow in his hands and attempting to hit him with a snowball himself.

Then he’s hit in the back with another snowball.

“Okay, what the  _ hell,” _ he shouts, whirling around, only to be met by a (very slightly) grinning Lan Fan, tossing a snowball up and down in her left hand. 

“Heads up,” she says, then throws it, hard, over Ed’s right shoulder so that it hits Ling directly in the face.

And after that, well. It’s a free-for-all.

 

They tumble back inside laughing and covered in snow an hour later, Lan Fan waving a hand and dashing off to her dorm room to change. Ling only shakes the snow out of his jacket and beams at Ed, bright as sunshine. It’s impossible to stay mad at him when he smiles like that.

“We should watch a movie,” Ed says, before he can second guess the thought. His stupid crush on Ling has done nothing but grow over the past few months, enough that it’s reached the point that Al has told him to shut up about it. For Ed to talk about something or someone enough that  _ Al _ is annoyed . . . well. 

He talks about Ling a lot, is what he’s saying.

“Sure,” Ling says. “I have a TV in my room.”

Of course he has a fucking TV in his room, Ed thinks, with only minimal amounts of exasperation. Rich bastard. 

“Hang on,” Ed ads, “there’s one thing we have to do before that.”

“Hmm?” Ling says. “What?”

“Say sorry for pelting me with snow,” Ed says. 

“What?”

“Say sorry,” Ed insists. 

Ling laughs, then, his eyes fond and surprised and sparkling. “Sorry I pelted you with snow,” he says, tugging Ed close in a one-armed hug. “But it was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Ed says, “whatever, I guess. Why’d you even do it?”

Ling taps a finger on his chin. “What would you be doing right now if I hadn’t?”

“I dunno,” Ed says. “Studying, probably. For my last final.”

“Hmm,” Ling says, tugging the knit cap off his head and shaking out his hair. It’s really unfairly attractive. Ed hates him a little for it and likes him a lot more. “And when is your last final, exactly?”

“Two days.”

“And now you’re going to watch a movie with me and actually have fun,” Ling says. “That’s why I did it. You work too hard sometimes, Ed.”

He walks off towards his room, and Ed stares at him as he does, running through that in his head.

Huh.

 

> iii. spring

It’s raining, and Ed hates the rain.

Rain just reminds him of all kinds of shit he doesn’t want to think about, like the day Hohenheim left, the thunder cracking after him, ominous and cold; the day of Mom’s funeral, when Ed wasn’t sure if it was rain or tears running down his face; like the day he woke up in the hospital after the accident and he wasn’t sure where Al was. Rain just makes him think about that, the sound of water running down the windows and through the gutters as he laid there in bed shaking, certain he’d just lost his only remaining family.

His arm and leg always hurt in the rain, too. So Ed hates it. He stumbles to class and then home, curling up on his dorm bed with a mug of tea and enough blankets around him that the sound is muffled slightly, his headphones in his ears doing their best to drown out the rest of it. 

But even Billie Joe Armstrong and Gerard Way aren’t much help at drowning out an actual thunderstorm, and Ed is stuck in his dorm with his tea and his blankets and all these stupid ugly memories and  _ feelings _ creeping up around his ears, as if he doesn’t have enough to deal with already. 

He kind of wants to cry. It’s that sort of bad day. But he can’t manage it, quite. He thinks if he could everything would wash away with it, but instead he’s just constantly on the verge of it. He has to stop listening to his favorite music, for fear of infusing it with this mood, of never being able to listen to it again without thinking about this particular ugly day.

His phone rings about a minute after he tugs his headphones out and stares morosely out the window. He doesn’t feel like answering it, but he does anyway. 

And then he’s very glad he did.

“Hey.” It’s Ling, voice soft and easy, casual. He doesn’t know that anything’s wrong, but there’s a hint of concern in his voice, even so. “You haven’t been around today. Everything okay? Are you sick?”

“Um,” Ed says, horribly aware of how close to tears he sounds. “Kind of.”

“Shit,” Ling says. “You want me to come up to your room? I know you don’t have a roommate.”

“No, it’s — no.” Ed doesn’t want anyone to see him like this, but certainly not Ling. “I just — um.”

“You wanna talk for a little while?” Ling says. He doesn’t sound pitying or overly cautious, just calm, casual. Just warm and friendly. Just concerned. Ed clutches the phone as tight as he can.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“Okay,” Ling says cheerfully. “So my professor was acting  _ weird _ today, right? Like, usually everything is fine, I go in, I take notes, I leave, whatever. But she was just — it was like an  _ Invasion of the Body Snatchers _ situation, it was really weird . . .”

Ling’s voice fades into a comfortable buzz in Ed’s ear. It drowns out the thunder. It drowns out the need to cry that’s been clutching his throat, holding him captive all afternoon. He takes a deep breath, and listens to Ling talk, and he’s okay.

 

“Hey, um, Ling?” Ed says, when Ling’s talked about his day for a while, and Ed’s listened, and drunk in the sound of another human being for a little while longer.

“Yeah, Ed?”

“Thanks. For this.”

“That’s what friends are for, dummy.” There’s a smile in Ling’s voice. “Now get some rest.”

 

> iv. summer

“So my family has this beach house that they never use,” Ling says, and Ed levels him with his best unimpressed look.

“Of course they do,” he says.

“No, I’m serious,” Ling says. “The house only has, like three bedrooms and it’s kinda far from the actual beach  _ and _ the town, but—”

“Oh,  _ only _ three bedrooms,” Ed says. “How did you survive?”

Ling flicks him in the cheek. “Shut up, I’m  _ trying _ to be nice. I want you to get Winry and Al and Paninya and I’m gonna get Lan Fan and we’re all gonna go spend a few weeks there, okay?”

Oh.

“Oh,” Ed says, sitting back, then blinks. “What about Mei?”

“She can come too, I guess,” Ling says. “She and Al are friends, right? We could have one room of three. And Lan Fan and Paninya both know how to cook.”

“I know how to cook,” Ed protests.

“Ed,” Ling says, “making pizza rolls is not cooking.” 

“Shut up, stupid,” Ed says. “You were inviting me to the beach for a few weeks, get back to that.”

Ling laughs. “I mean, would you actually want to, um, come? Lan Fan and I went with Mei last year and it was  _ fun, _ but I just think it’d be — I mean — if you guys could come it would be—”

He’s twisting his hands together. He’s actually  _ nervous _ about this.

“Of course,” Ed says. “Al is gonna flip out, he’ll be so excited.”

Ling’s shoulders relax. “Okay.”

 

When Ed, Al, Paninya, and Winry drive up to the beach house, Mei and Ling are having an argument on the porch, but Ling drops it immediately to push his sunglasses onto his forehead and beam at them as Winry parks her car and they all tumble out — Ed and Al from the backseat, because Paninya apparently had ‘shotgun infinity’ due to ‘girlfriend privileges’. 

Mei looks infinitely more cheerful now that they’re all here, too. “Hey, Al!” she calls. Al leans on his cane with one arm and waves back with the other. 

“We need to go to the beach  _ right _ now,” Winry declares, grabbing her backpack from the trunk and tossing Ed’s duffel at his face with no warning. He catches it, but it’s still a dick move. “I’ve been sitting in that car for so long, I need to  _ swim. _ ”

“Lan Fan’s already there,” Ling says. “She’s surfing.”

“Oh my god,” Paninya says. “She needs to teach me!”

They dissolve into chatter as they all walk into the house, Al laughing at something Mei says, Paninya with her arm thrown around Winry’s waist. Ed stands on the top step of the porch, looking down at Ling, on the bottom step.

“Hey,” he says. “Thanks, for this. They’re all so psyched.”

“What about you?” Ling says, walking up a step. They’re close enough that it makes the hairs on Ed’s arms stand up. “Are you psyched?”

Ed can’t do anything but be honest.

“Yeah,” he says. “I am.”

 

Everyone is shrieking and running around in the waves, but Ed is sitting on a towel a dozen feet back, book abandoned by his side and watching as Al and Winry swim, Al holding onto Lan Fan’s surfboard and kicking his legs. He’s getting stronger every day. Soon he won’t even need the cane anymore.

Ed leans his chin on his knees and grins as Ling emerges from the surf, shaking his hair out and avoiding a splash from his half-sister, running up the beach to collapse onto his stomach near Ed’s feet.

“You’re gonna get sand all over you,” Ed tells him.

“I don’t care,” Ling retorts, “I’m tired.”

“ _ Tired?” _ Ed says. “It’s the middle of the day.”

“Yeah, and I’ve been running around on the beach, and to the grocery store, to prepare for your arrival—”

“Ooh, shopping,” Ed says, sarcastically, still grinning at him. “Such a high-stress activity.”

“Shut up,” Ling says. “You’ve been sitting here all afternoon. Are you not having fun?”

“No, I am,” Ed says. “I just like to watch. It’s nice to see everyone here having fun together.”

“Yeah?” Ling says, propping his chin on his fists. “Why shouldn’t you be a part of that?”

“I am a part of it,” Ed says. “You came up here to see me, right?”

“Hmm,” Ling says. “I guess I did.”

“See, so there,” Ed says. “Shut up.”

He looks at Ling, and Ling is grinning, and then he’s up on his hands and knees, and then he’s crawling over to Ed, sitting on his beach towel, and then Ling kisses him on the mouth.

Ed’s brain blanks out. When it comes back online, he’s got a hand cupping the back of Ling’s neck and Ling’s hand is on his cheek, thumb moving gently over his cheekbone. Ling pulls back with a deliberately-irritating smack of his lips. Ed wrinkles his nose.

“You ruined it,” Ed complains.

“Like you wanted some big soppy romantic moment,” Ling says, rolling over so he’s lying on his back next to Ed on the towel. He grins up at him, teeth white, eyes barely visible behind his sunglasses. “I know you too well for that.”

Ed stares at him, lying there in the sand. He’s got a scattering of freckles from the sun on his nose and shoulders, and he’s got one hand behind his head and one between them on the towel.  _ I know you, _ he said. Ed thinks, then, that he really does, after everything they’ve done this year. He knows Ed when he’s at his worst and his best, he knows Ed in every season, he knows Ed in every mood. Ed doesn’t know why this is all striking him so hard and so fast, after one little kiss, but he’s been so scared of what being in love with this boy would mean, and now maybe he doesn’t have to be. He’s been afraid that Ling would leave when the going got tough, but that was just — well, it was stupid, wasn’t it?

He reaches out with his free hand and twines his fingers together with Ling’s, looking at him as he does, watches as his smile falters for a second in surprise and then grows bigger, in joy. Then he leans down and kisses him again, just once, just briefly. His mouth his warm, and faintly salty from the ocean spray, and he makes this happy noise in the back of his throat the second Ed’s lips touch his.

“I like you a lot, you weirdo,” Ed says, because that’s all he can say, because he’s an idiot and he doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings and Ling is there, smiling and kissing him, and Ed doesn’t want to be afraid of how much emotion fills his chest when he looks at him anymore. 

“That’s a coincidence,” Ling says, “because I like you a lot too.” He squeezes Ed’s hand, and for a moment the two of them just sit in silence, grinning like fools at each other.

Then Ling sits up and sighs.

“Want to go get ice cream?” he asks. “There’s a shop back in town.”

“God, yes,” Ed says. “You have the best ideas sometimes.”

Ling winks, and stands, tugging Ed to his feet after him and already taking off running, their hands wound together. “Well, you know,” he says. “I try.”

**Author's Note:**

> hi yall! so this was for the 'seasonal' prompt for edling week but i didnt finish it on time lol so it's being posted on the next day but sometimes it just be like that sorry
> 
> title from _summertime_ by my chemical romance, an edling song if i ever did hear one


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